Sometimes One Likes Foolish People For Their

I Do Not Look On Self-indulgent, Sensual People As Worthy Of My Hatred; I Simply Look Upon Them With Contempt For Their Poorness Of Character.

But Margaret Went Less Abroad, Among Machinery And Men; Saw Less Of Power In Its Public Effect, And, As It Happened, She Was Thrown With One Or Two Of Those Who, In All Measures Affecting Masses Of People, Must Be Acute Sufferers For The Good Of Many. The Question Always Is, Has Everything Been Done To Make The Sufferings Of These Exceptions As Small As Possible?

Waiting Is Far More Difficult Than Doing.

And So She Shuddered Away From The Threat Of His Enduring Love. What Did He Mean? Had She Not The Power To Daunt Him? She Would See. It Was More Daring Than Became A Man To Threaten Her.

If Mr. Thornton Was A Fool In The Morning, As He Assured Himself At Least Twenty Times He Was, He Did Not Grow Much Wiser In That Afternoon. All That He Gained In Return For His Sixpenny Omnibus Ride, Was A More Vivid Conviction That There Never Was, Never Could Be, Any One Like Margaret; That She Did Not Love Him And Never Would; But That She — No! Nor The Whole World — Should Never Hinder Him From Loving Her.